"...the best words in the best order." - Samuel Taylor Coleridge
"Poetry is above all a connection of the power of language, which is the power of our ultimate relationship to everything in the universe." -Adrienne Rich
My poetry is not much of masterful creation but the simple knowledge of a daily life. Lets say for my ode to gaming (which is featured below). As you can tell I love video games and attempted to represent that to the reader of my feeling step by step. They point that I wanted to explain is that gaming isn’t just picking up a controller and trying to kill the other person, but is to show how I feel. Now, its not just video games that mean a lot to me but also other things, I might be doing a activity for a while until I actually figure out what it is or maybe sometimes its my first time doing it. Then I get so inspired about it that certain event, action, thing and write about it.
Ode:
As I pick up the controller in the late night.
As I turn on the TV and change it to HDMI 2.
And as I see the symbol and the sound of XBOX
Rise on the screen.
I relax.
As I rip open a bag of chips.
As I crack open a bottle of soda.
And as I pull the lever for the retractable chair.
I chill.
As I press up and A
As I press multiplayer
And as I put on my headset
I game.
-MC†89
Sensory Memory Poem:
The feeling of wind blowing threw my hair, fingers, and around my body
The sound of the waves crashing on the smooth sand and retreating back
The view of a endless sea with no vanishing point and clouds embracing the suns rays
The smell of a salty mist in the air surrounding you joy of a place
The taste of a crisp BLT straight from a water cooler.
Paradise.
-MC†89
Iamb/ Sonnet Poem:
Stupid people do dumb bullshit in town
They talk they eat they sleep they have no sheep
Sometimes they thrill off the hit for a crown
Insane they chat insane of how they creep
They chase the man with such freedom anger
They want the cloth off their back without say
Oh, criminal why kill freedom of Bangor
As he runs away the trail stays in day
What will he do oh criminal show love
All hate no passion but can he try
The man will not ever become a shove
What life is to become but to fly
Oh, criminal understand that freedom
In your life can be brutal freedom will come.
-MC†89
Kay Ryan Poems
Home to Roost by Kay Ryan
The chickens
are circling and
blotting out the
day. The sun is
bright, but the
chickens are in
the way. Yes,
the sky is dark
with chickens,
dense with them.
They turn and
then they turn
again. These
are the chickens
you let loose
one at a time
and small—
various breeds.
Now they have
come home
to roost—all
the same kind
at the same speed.
Chickens are together in one house and live with each other. Until that is, they end up at your dinner table. But this poem Ryan explains what a daily life of a chicken is. Nothing fancy but a few head turns, pecking at the ground, getting those breasts fat, etc. Also a kind of cont down of a chickens life.
Sharks Teeth by Kay Ryan
Everything contains some
silence. Noise gets
its zest from the
small shark's-tooth-
shaped fragments
of rest angled
in it. An hour
of city holds maybe
a minute of these
remnants of a time
when silence reigned,
compact and dangerous
as a shark. Sometimes
a bit of a tail
or fin can still
be sensed in parks.
A sharks mind from a humans perspective is what is shown here. Sharks attack for the thrill, the taste. But what Ryan says in it is that "Noise gets the zest from the small shark's-tooth-shaped fragments of rest angled in it". She talks about the action of the attack. That the only noise is the screaming of the human being attacked by the shark.
Patience by Kay Ryan
Patience is
wider than one
once envisioned,
with ribbons
of rivers
and distant
ranges and
tasks undertaken
and finished
with modest
relish by
natives in their
native dress.
Who would
have guessed
it possible
that waiting
is sustainable—
a place with
its own harvests.
Or that in
time's fullness
the diamonds
of patience
couldn't be
distinguished
from the genuine
in brilliance
or hardness.
Ian McClendon
Poetry Portfolio
"...the best words in the best order." - Samuel Taylor Coleridge
"Poetry is above all a connection of the power of language, which is the power of our ultimate relationship to everything in the universe." -Adrienne Rich
My poetry is not much of masterful creation but the simple knowledge of a daily life. Lets say for my ode to gaming (which is featured below). As you can tell I love video games and attempted to represent that to the reader of my feeling step by step. They point that I wanted to explain is that gaming isn’t just picking up a controller and trying to kill the other person, but is to show how I feel. Now, its not just video games that mean a lot to me but also other things, I might be doing a activity for a while until I actually figure out what it is or maybe sometimes its my first time doing it. Then I get so inspired about it that certain event, action, thing and write about it.
Ode:
As I pick up the controller in the late night.
As I turn on the TV and change it to HDMI 2.
And as I see the symbol and the sound of XBOX
Rise on the screen.
I relax.
As I rip open a bag of chips.
As I crack open a bottle of soda.
And as I pull the lever for the retractable chair.
I chill.
As I press up and A
As I press multiplayer
And as I put on my headset
I game.
-MC†89
Sensory Memory Poem:
The feeling of wind blowing threw my hair, fingers, and around my body
The sound of the waves crashing on the smooth sand and retreating back
The view of a endless sea with no vanishing point and clouds embracing the suns rays
The smell of a salty mist in the air surrounding you joy of a place
The taste of a crisp BLT straight from a water cooler.
Paradise.
-MC†89
Iamb/ Sonnet Poem:
Stupid people do dumb bullshit in town
They talk they eat they sleep they have no sheep
Sometimes they thrill off the hit for a crown
Insane they chat insane of how they creep
They chase the man with such freedom anger
They want the cloth off their back without say
Oh, criminal why kill freedom of Bangor
As he runs away the trail stays in day
What will he do oh criminal show love
All hate no passion but can he try
The man will not ever become a shove
What life is to become but to fly
Oh, criminal understand that freedom
In your life can be brutal freedom will come.
-MC†89
Kay Ryan Poems
Home to Roost by Kay Ryan
Chickens are together in one house and live with each other. Until that is, they end up at your dinner table. But this poem Ryan explains what a daily life of a chicken is. Nothing fancy but a few head turns, pecking at the ground, getting those breasts fat, etc. Also a kind of cont down of a chickens life.
Sharks Teeth by Kay Ryan
A sharks mind from a humans perspective is what is shown here. Sharks attack for the thrill, the taste. But what Ryan says in it is that "Noise gets the zest from the small shark's-tooth-shaped fragments of rest angled in it". She talks about the action of the attack. That the only noise is the screaming of the human being attacked by the shark.
Patience by Kay Ryan